Chapter 30

1545 hours, local time
Tuesday, 10 February, 2015
Magnolia Manor
The Free City of Cairo (formerly Cairo, Illinois)

The Prophet David Howard looked over the latest defense and security reports with the rest of the war council of the Free City of Cairo, as they called it nowadays. They had useful allies against the common enemy: the Hell’s Angels, a faction that was just an outlaw biker gang prior to Fireball Day, when literal fire and brimstone brought death, destruction, and anarchy to much of the world. Those allies included the North Illinois Liberation Front, the Havenite communities in Wheaton, St. Louis, and elsewhere in Missouri, maybe even some from Kentucky, though both groups had their own foes, several communities in Iowa, such as Davenport, Des Moines, and Dubuque, the Abraham Lincoln Society in Springfield, and the Justice Party faction that ruled Vandalia. Even so, Cairo was ultimately on its own, with no guarantees from even its allies in these dark times.

“The latest intelligence is mildly reassuring, if only just so. The Justice Party Militia has repelled four attacks from the Hell’s Angels in the past week alone. The most severe was on Saturday, February 7th, when a large assault was attempted on each flank, an abortive pincer movement of sorts. They have also opened up another front by launching an offensive against Springfield, which is, of course, Abraham Lincoln Society territory. Or Lincolnite territory, as they like to call it. This began on Sunday, February 8th,” Colonel Arnette told the others of the latest news, including the Prophet, Mayor Joshua Barnes, Tozroman the demon, and Chief Constable Gunderson.

The Prophet sighed as he considered the full weight of this crisis, “Any attacks elsewhere?”

Colonel Arnette nodded gravely. “Yes, sporadic raids in Cook County against the North Illinois Liberation Front, clearly intended as probing attacks to gauge the strength of their defense. Evidently, the enemy is eager to eradicate all opposition within the state and to eliminate all threats to its rear ... perhaps in preparation to an attack on us.”

The demon Tozroman, his eyes blazing with a more protective kind of rage now, very attached to the people of Cairo, nodded, “We and the aforementioned cities are the last bastions of civilization, sanity, and human decency left in this state, whatever their flaws, and if you will pardon a demon for speaking of human decency, of course.”

The Mayor leaned back in his chair, rubbing his forehead, his eyes showing signs of stress and fatigue, “Trust me, Toz, you even have a nickname, so you’re practically a human now.”

The room filled with a brief moment of tension-releasing laughter, which was quickly hushed as the gravity of the situation descended upon them once more. Gunderson, the stoic Chief Constable, cleared his throat, bringing the conversation back to the pressing matter at hand, “The raids in Cook are concerning. If they’re testing NILF’s defenses, it suggests they might be planning something more substantial than mere banditry.”

“It’s very bad, yes, but on the plus side, the Masonic War in Wisconsin is about to take a turn for the better, soon to be resolved with the aid and guidance of the Prophet Charles Tremaine and his tribe or clan or family or whatever. When that’s resolved, you will have an ally in the folks from that state, if war weary from the constant fighting there,” the angel Ariel, a tall, blonde, very male herald of Heaven, declared for their benefit.

The Prophet nodded slowly, his eyes still on the map. “It’s not just the Hell’s Angels we have to worry about, though. There’s various folks in Missouri and Indiana who could stir trouble, plus the fault line, which could lead to earthquakes.”

“Most of the earthquakes striking North America this year will hit Alaska, and the one which didn’t already happened in Connecticut. We’re good on earthquakes this year. The major offensive against Vandalia hasn’t happened yet. That’s coming on March 21st, when they will make their biggest push yet, with a secondary assault on Springfield. These were probing attacks, all of them, and they are already planning this big juggernaut, with the idea of redirecting their focus on Springfield once Vandalia caves,” Ariel told them now, very relevant information indeed.

The Mayor, who had been listening intently, finally spoke up, “We’ve got to get ahead of this, somehow. We can’t just sit and wait for the hammer to fall on us. We need a plan, something to bolster our alliances and prepare ourselves for when it does come to our doorstep.”

Colonel Arnette, a seasoned veteran with a sharp mind for strategy, leaned forward, placing his finger on the map at the location of the Hell’s Angels’ last known stronghold. “We could launch a preemptive strike, take out their leadership before they have the chance to organize something against us. It’s a risky move, but if done right, it could buy us time to fortify our city and train more soldiers.”

Sergeant Major Jackson Copper, their most senior enlisted man, formerly a gunnery sergeant in the Marine Corps, now raised his hand, “I was in Marine Force Recon for a time. I could lead such a raid. We don’t even have to annihilate them. We just have to kill enough of them to strike terror and panic in their hearts and buy us a little time. It’s a suicide mission, but I volunteer to lead it. The alternative is waiting for them entirely with no control over the situation. I just five men for a six man team, lightly equipped and armed for the maximum benefit. We need explosives. Nitroglycerin. Make a big boom.”

The Mayor nodded solemnly, considering the proposal. “It’s a bold move, but we might not have much of a choice. We need to be ready for whatever comes our way. Colonel Arnette, gather the best men and women for this mission. We can’t afford any mistakes. Tozroman, can you provide any intel on their leaders, their strongholds, their numbers?”

“Actually, I can. The gift of prophecy strikes at the strangest times. Their headquarters is currently in Peoria, under the current boss, self styled Grand Hetman Aaron Troyes. He was the one responsible for reorganizing them along Cossack lines, emulating the famous Russian elite military or paramilitary corps. That’s a recent reform, and it has apparently worked for them. They have a special force of elite bodyguards called the Grand Vanguard, composed of some six hundred thirty of their best bikers, so you can imagine how dangerous they might be,” the Prophet told them, leaving no room for doubt.